Gerard presses the buzzer for the fourth time, holding it a little bit this time. He’s just contemplating whether kicking the door is a viable option when Martin pulls it open, looking apologetic. “Sorry, sorry, we’re trying to get the television hooked up and we were both tangled up.” He relieves Gerard of one of the bags he’s clutching. “Jesus, what do you have in here, rocks?”
“It goes with rocks, anyway.” Gerard shuts the door behind him. “I take it I haven’t missed it, then.”
“No, there’s still twenty minutes to go. Good thing, because it’s going to take us at least that long to get set up.” Martin takes the other bag from Gerard and heads into the kitchen.
Gerard stops in the living room and observes the pair of denim-clad legs sticking out from behind the television, which is swearing copiously in what sounds like Cantonese. “Need a hand, Neens?”
“Or two,” Melanie grumbles. “Hold the damn television, would you?”
Gerard obligingly pulls the television a little bit away from the wall, giving Melanie enough leverage to fix whatever wire it is she’s messing with. The television flickers to life, revealing what Gerard is pretty sure is a laptop screen. “Whatever you just did, it worked.”
“Good. Don’t let go.” Melanie wiggles out and eases the television back, then studies it critically. “Okay then. We’re all set.”
“Great. Want a drink?” Gerard can hear faint popping coming from the kitchen. “And Martin’s making popcorn.”
Melanie nods. “Beer’s good. I’ve got to get this queued up.”
It’s late, but not too late, as far as Gerard’s concerned, especially for a Friday. He’s always been more of a night owl than anything. Melanie’s been keeping odd hours lately, what with what she’s been working on. He’s a little worried about Martin, though—a worry that’s borne out when he sees the dark circles under Martin’s eyes, almost as big as his glasses.
“When’s the last time you slept?” he asks, bumping his hip lightly against Martin’s as he pulls down glasses.
“I took a nap after work,” Martin says, a little defensively. Gerard waits him out, eyebrow raised, until he finally sighs and admits, “Been having a hard time the last couple of weeks, though. Not sure what’s going on, it’s just been…weird.”
“Something’s up,” Gerard agrees. They’ve all sensed it, in a way, like a shift in the balance of power. Something big is going down, or getting ready to go down, or has just gone down. Martin, unfortunately, is tied more closely to the Eye than even Gerard, who has it literally etched into his skin, which means that whenever the Fourteen are getting active, Martin is usually aware of it before the other two are, even if it’s never in a way that’s particularly helpful.
Martin shrugs and takes the pot off the stove, then grabs a large bowl. “Neenie says she’s got an idea that might help. Meanwhile, I think that guy at the occult shop is ready to recommend I just get an exorcism already, because I’ve pretty much cleaned out their entire stock of dried heather.”
“Is it working?”
“Not really, no.”
They head back into the living room. Melanie has called up the website, which is displaying a black screen counting down to launch time, and her stockinged feet rest on the coffee table. She looks up as they come in and stretches out her hand for the beer Gerard is bringing her. He considers holding it above her head, but she’s definitely not above climbing him like a tree—or worse, kicking his knees out from under him. He sit next to her and hands her the bottle. Martin sits on her other side and sets the bowl of popcorn on her lap. “Sorry you’re not doing this with your crew, Neens.”
“I’m not. I’d much rather be here with you two.” Melanie considers for a moment. “I mean, I’d rather we all be together, but if I have to choose, I’ll pick you two. And since I’m pretty sure Pete and Toni both think you killed your mum, here we are.”
“There are honestly days I wish I had,” Gerard mutters. “Tonight, for instance.”
Martin reaches across the back of the couch and taps Gerard lightly on the top of the head. “I hope you mean that in the I wish I’d ground her into a fine paste so she wouldn’t bother me anymore way and not in the I wish I’d helped her finish her ritual so she didn’t need me or feel like making my life miserable way. And I cannot believe that just came out of my mouth.”
Gerard can’t help the surprised laugh that bubbles up. “Yeah. I wouldn’t doom the rest of the world to her for anything.”
“We’ll figure out a way to get rid of her,” Melanie says, with a confidence Gerard is pretty sure she doesn’t actually feel. “I’ve got all kinds of contacts now. Surely somebody knows a way to get rid of her.”
Gerard doesn’t want to hurt Melanie’s feelings, especially tonight, but he’s pretty sure it’s not going to be that easy. “How many contacts do you have that seem like they actually know what’s going on?”
Melanie scowls at him, but she does admit, “Not sure yet. I’m still sussing that out. But still. We’ll be rid of your mum eventually.” She pauses. “She’s not going to call you back tonight, is she?”
“She’s still faded. I’m hoping I’ve got another day or two. Or at least through tonight.”
“Hey, it’s about to start,” Martin says.
Melanie expands the video to full screen and nestles between Gerard and Martin, scrunching herself into a ball with the popcorn bowl propped on her knees. Gerard could almost believe it’s one of their usual, if incredibly rare, movie nights, except for the fact that it’s almost midnight and the fact that this is considerably more important than a movie.
The clock ticks over to midnight, the countdown vanishes, and Melanie’s face appears on the screen. “Hello, everyone! I’m Melanie King, and this is the very first episode of Ghost Hunt UK.”
“Does my voice really sound like that?” Melanie asks, wrinkling her nose.
“Yes,” Martin and Gerard say in unison. Melanie grunts in annoyance.
Gerard has to admit he wasn’t sure about this when Melanie first told him about it. A show about traipsing over supposedly haunted ruins and stirring up trouble, even one sponsored by a major production company trying to break into the streaming game, seems like an uncertain way of making a living to him, especially since she has a First in communications—surely there are better options. Add in the fact that they know the sorts of things that are out there, and Gerard was almost ready to come home from Italy early when Martin told him about it and drag her back to London by her hair.
But now, watching the show unfold, he’s surprisingly glad he didn’t. Melanie thrives in front of a camera, and when talking about the supernatural, she’s in her element. She plays up just enough of the skeptic to draw the attention, but even Gerard can see that she’s the more cautious of the two on screen. And it is entertaining. There’s enough of a show that it makes it gripping, and he has to admit that the haunting is convincing.
The show lasts a bit under an hour, factoring in the ad breaks, and then ends. Melanie minimizes the screen, and a delighted grin splits her face as she sees the live chat scrolling in the sidebar. “Oh, good, people are watching. I wasn’t sure.”
“It was good, Neens,” Gerard tells her.
“And you’ll probably get more traction throughout the day,” Martin adds. “All the people who stayed up to watch the launch, they’ll tell their friends. You’ll probably be trending on social media for the next day or two.”
Melanie punches Martin, but she’s grinning almost shyly at the same time. “You really think so?”
Martin catches her hand, then pulls her into a sideways hug. “You’ve got a real hit show on your hands.”
“The ghost was good,” Gerard says as he begins to gather up the empty bottles. “Where’d you find…him? Her?”
“Him, I think, but I don’t want to assume,” Melanie muses. “It’s a fairly well-known haunting, but nobody’s ever been completely sure who the ghost was.”
“I meant the actor.”
Melanie stares up at him, blinking. “What?”
Gerard gestures at the screen. “I mean…you got it on film. Doesn’t technology usually go haywire around that sort of thing?”
“Around the Fourteen, yeah, but that’s—it’s just a ghost. It’s not hurting anything, it’s just…there.”
Martin frowns at Gerard over Melanie’s head. “Did you think all these shows were faked, Ger?”
“I—yes. Aren’t they?”
“No,” Melanie says, sounding offended. “Okay, maybe some of them are, but there are plenty of reputable ones out there, and Ghost Hunt UK aims to be one of them.”
Strangely enough, this does the opposite of comfort Gerard. His stomach folds itself into a series of origami shapes as the implications of what Melanie and Martin are saying sink in. “You mean you’re not faking these hauntings. You’re walking into places that are actually haunted and trying to…what, draw their attention?”
“Investigate them. See if they’re real, how real they are. Get what you can on camera, you know?” Melanie gestures at the now-black screen. “You saw what we’re doing.”
“Melanie. That’s dangerous.” Gerard sits on the coffee table to face her. “You say that’s not one of the Fourteen, but what if it was? What if you walk in on something that’s…that does mean you harm? What then?”
Melanie shrugs. “Then I do what I always do. Ward it off if I can, run if I can’t.” She glances up at Martin. “And I have—that woman we talked to, the one who said she had the place warded to keep the ghost away? I talked to her a lot more than was on the show—most of it got canned for time, or not filmed at all—and I got some good ideas. I think we can put together something to keep the Fourteen out of our homes. Well, maybe not Gerry, not with Aunt Mary there, but you and me. Shouldn’t be too hard.”
“We can talk about that a bit more tomorrow.” Martin stifles a yawn. “Are you two spending the night?”
“Planning on it. What about you, Gerry?”
Gerard can’t believe they’re both being so…so casual about this. “Martin, aren’t you worried?” he blurts. “Or have you just had longer to accept the inevitable?”
Martin jerks back like Gerard’s slapped him, and he instantly regrets his words. He swallows the urge to take them back, though, and Martin takes a deep breath before answering. “I’m not unduly worried because Melanie’s right, Gerry. It’s not really any different than one of us running into…something on our own. For fuck’s sake, I work steeped in the Beholder, and I probably run into one of the others at least once a week. You spend half your life chasing down Leitners, and half the time the people who have them want to keep them. Why’s it so different if Melanie does it?”
Stung, Gerard replies without giving himself time to think. “Because I was hoping she’d be the one person who didn’t make a living dealing with this shit.”
“I don’t,” Melanie says calmly. “Like you said, if the ghost was part of the Fourteen, we wouldn’t have been able to get good video footage. We vet our locations carefully. This first season we’ve just been covering places already covered by other shows—you know, kind of a ‘fresh perspective’ thing—and now we’ve got contacts to find new hauntings, but safe ones, for the next season. It’s going to be fine. And if you’re that worried about it, I can talk to the producers about hiring you on for next season and you can be our expert or our muscle or whatever.”
“I’m trying not to have my face plastered across the internet again, thanks.” Gerard chews on his bottom lip, worry and upset mingling in his gut.
Because the truth is, he thinks both Martin and Melanie have inadvertently hit on the real issue. He’s not worried about Melanie potentially stirring up the Fourteen necessarily; she’s good in a fight and she’s got a lot of spite in her, so if something goes after her, she’s well able to defend herself. It’s not even that he thinks she’ll get Marked, or killed, if she goes with her crew. He just doesn’t like the idea of her doing it without him and Martin. Things don’t generally attack the Institute—not that he’s noticed, anyway—and when things are stirring up, like now, Gerard can meet Martin after work and make sure he doesn’t get in trouble between there and here. What Melanie’s doing has no such guarantees, and Gerard can’t be there to protect her, especially if he doesn’t know where she’s going.
He takes a deep, steadying breath. “Just…promise me that if you do run into something nasty, you’ll come to us. Anything, I don’t care how trivial it seems. You run into something that even hints it might be one of the Fourteen, you come to Martin and me right away, even if that means you have to turn up at the Institute, do you hear me?”
Melanie starts to bristle, then seems to realize he’s in deadly earnest. She relaxes and softens, then reaches over and squeezes his hand gently. “I hear you. And I promise. I won’t go off…white-knighting on my own or anything. If anything goes haywire, if I even get the slightest sense that I’m poking around somewhere dangerous, I’ll come to you two.”
Gerard decides to believe her, if only because Martin seems to. It’s the best he’s going to be able to do. “Okay. Okay. If you don’t…”
“Yeah, yeah, you can skin me and feed what’s left to a duck.” Melanie yawns, too. “Bags I the couch.”
Gerard doesn’t argue, mostly because he’s not entirely sure he’s going to sleep tonight. He has a feeling he’s going to be up at the kitchen table, watching the show over and over and making sure it’s not one of the Fourteen. All he says, though, is, “Okay, fine. ‘Night, you two.”